No Man Left Behind
by Pekenota14
Summary: Sherlock takes the blame for Moriarty's accusations and is sent to a hospital. John is deeply worried because Sherlock behaves like a normal patient. Upon Moriarty's suicide, John is charged with criminal association but gets away with it, and has a plan to free Sherlock. Single chapter


**One more Sherlock fanfiction from me. Hope you guys like it. Reviews are always welcome, let me know your opinions. **

* * *

Sherlock was sitting on an armchair, turned to the window. John attentively observed his friend from outside of the room. He was deeply concerned about him. He didn't speak to John had been two weeks already. Sherlock wasn't the same anymore.

To avoid all the threats Moriarty made, Sherlock turned himself in. He falsely admitted to have hired Richard Brook to play his arch enemy Jim Moriarty; he admitted he was a fraud. Instead of being put to jail Sherlock was sent to a mental institution to heal is apparent schizophrenia.

John, loyal and friend as always, tried to talk with him several times. He wanted to question his motivations because he knew that he wouldn't lie to him. But Sherlock never allowed any nurse to let John in. When inquiring the medical condition of his friend he got a bigger shock. He expected him to have a plan; he always does. But apparently he didn't this time. He was behaving like any other patient, taking his medication doses as prescribed by the doctor, respecting each and every order.

He was losing himself already. Two weeks in there and he looked like a dead man walking around. No more thinking or boredom; he was starting to drift from his persona. John was daily worried about Sherlock and got an extra preoccupation. He was being charged with criminal association since he was close with Sherlock. Seeing that nothing appeared to be changing, John worked on a plan.

John's trial sentence was all over the tabloids. But that was not the only big headline. Richard Brook's suicide was front cover page as well. Scotland Yard found a suicide letter in which "Richard" wrote that he had been under too much pressure and that he couldn't handle the situation anymore. Of course john got delivered at 221B a special note, this yes, it had the trending mark of Moriarty's speech.

_The puppy rebelled against his master. I've quite liked it, John. Honestly! Can't believe you betrayed him like that. And to think I once wanted a human just like you, just like Sherlock had you. This just very well proved that I'm better off alone; no backstabbers to worry about._

John waited impatiently at the hospital's waiting room, walking from side to side with a newspaper in hands. Sherlock came to meet him that day. He was much thinner than what he already used to be. He looked frail and slow. In his eyes he carried sadness, something John had never seen on him but could easily recognize. Of course he'd be feeling sad and angry, even disappointed with him, but that's why he was there.

"Sherlock, I know how you must feel but there's an explanation for everything and if you could hear me-"

"You said before a courtroom that I paid you to lie, manipulated you."

"Listen, I know-"

Sherlock interrupted him. "I mean, I've never even paid for the groceries for you, not even once. And I certainly never paid you the jacket that had holes all over it."

"The jacket that has…? My jacket? That same jacket that you said it went to dry cleaning and came filled with holes?"

"Corrosive acid; not my fault, though. I forgot the beaker over the oven when Mrs. Hudson entered and offered me a cup of tea."

"Sherlock, I…!" John growled, rubbing his forehead. He took a deep sigh and continued. "Well, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I have an explanation for the news you've just seen and I have a plan as well."

"Spit it out then." He ordered. John smiled and continued to, unknowingly, look at him. "Can I know why you're smiling like a complete idiot?"

"Nothing. It's just… you seem like you… again."

"Of course I do. I haven't been given the medication yet. And no," Sherlock rushed to speak first than John who was ready to jump in the middle of his speech. "I can't fake to take the pills. They know when I don't take them and double the dose, so I prefer to swallow them and be on trance for some hours. Now the plan, John?"

"Yes, of course." John cleared his throat and then spoke in low voice. "Look around; if you wanted to run away, how would you do it?"

"I'm not running away, John. I'm already a fraud; I don't need to be a fugitive as well." John squinted, letting him realize his words. "Oh, whatever, where's the excitement in doing nothing?"

John laughed. "Exactly. Tell me how; I'll come and take you out of here midnight sharp."

"Eleven-thirty would be even more perfect." Sherlock looked at a nurse passing by and John immediately understood he must look as well. "Gertrude is on the night shift tonight all alone. She's fond with me, and she's obese and asthmatic, so…"

"You are terrible, Sherlock." John said, yet not being able to hold back a smirk.

"Where do we go after?"

"Won't be telling you." John strictly spoke. "You'd be criticizing my choice, as you always do."

"Give me three examples when I've ever criticized your choices."

"You disapprove any woman I go out on a date with; you lecture me about my breakfast choices and you won't let me get a dog."

"All the women you choose to go on dates aren't worth you; your breakfast choices are all kinds of wrong, but you're a doctor, you should know better than me. And for the last time: no dog in the flat!"

"First, you're the one who has to eat; you're as thin as a brolly stretcher! And one day I'll buy a dog and you won't do anything about it!"

"How do you want me to do it? Poison? Gunshot?"

"You wouldn't kill the dog."

Sherlock turned his face away, speaking. "Try me…"

* * *

_Three months later_

Sherlock was attentively looking outside the window when he saw John crossing the street, carrying the grocery bags. He sat at the armchair and grabbed the violin quickly, playing. He looked sideways at the English bulldog eyeing him, sitting on the floor.

Gladstone, the dog, grabbed the tennis ball between his teeth and dropped it at Sherlock's feet, friendly scratching his leg with his forepaw. Sherlock bent down, picked up the ball and threw it away to the kitchen. Gladstone eagerly ran to fetch it and dropped it again at Sherlock's feet. The dog sat, waiting for him to throw the ball again.

Upon hearing John's keys jingling as he was trying to open the door, he turned to the dog, speaking. "You better start hating me once John walks in that door or else I'll actually kill you."

The dog whimpered, as if he had understood and lied down on his belly, resting his chin over his forepaws.

John walked in the flat and closed the door with a back kick, sarcastically saying. "It's okay Sherlock; I can carry it all by myself!"

He didn't pay attention, running to the stove. He lifted the cover of a pot and John leaned in, looking at the weird and glue-ish water boiling.

"Ah, it's ready!" Sherlock said excited.

"You're not trying it on Gladstone again!" John adverted him, putting the groceries over the table. He walked to the fridge and opened its door. "Holy sh-" He spoke as he closed the door again. "There's a severed head in the fridge!"

"Still find that surprising?" Sherlock mocked him, walking to the window, gazing the city sight. "The weather here is dull."

"London's weather is dull. This is New York; there's snow and sun and…" John spoke, knowing he wasn't making much sense. "others…"

"I think we should go back to London."

"Yeah, so do I. But remember that we have to wait for your brother's call. There's still an open investigation over both of us and we shouldn't go back until they reveal the conversation you had with Moriarty and recorded on your phone."

"Yes, I know John, but the wait is slowly killing me. New York is dull!"

John smirked and put on his jacket, walking to the door. "There are some cases posted on my blog; take a look at them. Just, this time, try not to be, let's just say, on the spotlight. We don't need another problem like Moriarty."

"Well, if that happens and everything else's fails I can always jump down a building and fake my death."

John exhaled thoroughly and rolled his eyes. He turned the doorknob and spoke before leaving. "I'm off to work. See you later."

"No you won't see me later." John backed a few steps, looking at him. "You're having a date after working at the hospital. Isn't it with Doctor Jessica?"

"Alright, fine, you know everything. You're the great Sherlock Holmes, congratulations! Now I must leave. Don't make much of a mess."

Once John walked out the flat, Gladstone walked to Sherlock, barking at him. "Would you let him walk out the door first before becoming so ecstatic? Go sleep, go on." He ordered the dog, pointing the couch.

Sherlock opened the laptop, checking on the commoner cases posted on John's blog. He answered them all in a matter of minutes.

When he looked around, looking for the dog he found him sitting by the door with the leash on his mouth.

"Oh bloody hell you are as stubborn as John!" Sherlock grabbed the leash and attached it to the dog's collar. "Just a walk around the block."

Truth is Sherlock took the dog for more than just a block. In fact, he started sniffling around, leading Sherlock to what promised to be an intriguing case. He pulled out of his cellphone and dialed John's number. He was at the restaurant with Jessica and declined his calls twice until he decided to answer.

"John, you've got to meet me immediately."

"Why, what happened?"

"I may have found something intriguing. Meet me right away, I'm about 3 miles south on the New York and Eastern Railway."

"I'm in the middle of something now."

"This promises to be good. Gladstone keeps on sniffling around and I have just found-"

"You took Gladstone? I thought you hated my dog."

"Our dog." Sherlock corrected. "It lives in both our flat so it's our dog. Now, when will you be coming?"

John sighed and said. "I'll be there as fast as I can." Once he hung up he spoke to Jessica. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm really sorry."

Jessica didn't say a word and watched John leaving money over the table to settle the dinner expenses and walking out the door.

"Sorry for a taking so long." John spoke out of breath when he finally met Sherlock. "I walked the opposite way."

"I clearly said _south_. But it's alright; you've arrived just in time. The interesting part is about to begin."


End file.
